


A Rose for Every Garden

by ruination_fangs



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Kidnapping, Pre-Relationship, Tales of Femslash Week 2020, also some minor Eleanor/Magilou and implied Magilou/Velvet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25368748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruination_fangs/pseuds/ruination_fangs
Summary: Various Berseria AUs for Tales of Femslash Week 2020.
Relationships: Velvet Crowe/Eleanor Hume
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	1. The Greatest Showwoman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Petunia (Resentment)  
> Based on the general plot of The Greatest Showman. I don't remember anything about this movie except the music, so don't @ me about details... we're just here for eleanor helping magilou run a circus

Usually when Eleanor comes in through the back entrance of the Menagerie's venue, it's like walking off the street and into... well, into a circus. Magilou has recruited no shortage of interesting acts for her new "show," and Eleanor is continually surprised at the amount of talent she's discovered.

Tonight, however, it's darker inside than outside. Hardly any of the backstage lights are on, and the doors along the hallway are closed and locked already. It is getting late, so most of the performers have probably already done their rehearsals and headed out for the night. But one prominent beam of light along the floor illuminates the way to the open stage door, and Eleanor walks through it into the arena to find that the one person she wanted to see is still there.

Velvet is currently twirling slowly around the stage, following markers laid out on the ground and extending her sword arm to hit invisible objects. Eleanor has seen this routine before; when she does it at full speed she's like a whirlwind. It's almost difficult to follow the flips and slashes, turns and kicks that cleanly slice every target set up or thrown for her during her performances. Even in slow motion, while she's concentrating on the placement of her feet and not her blade, there's a beauty to her movements.

Honestly, the first thing Eleanor had noticed about Velvet is that she's beautiful. Perhaps that's shallow of her, but what can she say? Watching Velvet run through her routine for the first time, all she saw was a blur of black hair whipping around her and long, mostly bare legs propelling her across the stage. It wasn't until she stopped and came closer that Eleanor got a good look at her: strong cheekbones, neutral expression, a flicker of interest in her gold eyes, and then, finally, her left arm - or rather, lack of it.

She probably stared too much. She barely stopped herself from asking some very inappropriate questions. But that wasn't the reason that Velvet has been on her mind almost constantly since then, or the reason she's been coming back to "check in on her investment" almost every day. 

She stands in awe again as Velvet speeds up. The acrobat deftly flips into a perfectly-landed crouch on the mat set up for her more gymnastic feats, and slowly stretches back up to her full height, a few inches taller than Eleanor. Eleanor is fairly certain she couldn't do half the things Velvet does even with two arms to keep her balance; she has no idea how Velvet has such complete control over her movements. It must have taken years to master. Has she been working on this for that long?

At that moment Velvet looks over her shoulder at her, and Eleanor swallows. She hasn't made a sound, she thinks, but Velvet always knows when she has an audience.

(A fleeting memory resurfaces: Magilou telling her about how severe Velvet's stage fright was when she first started performing. You'd never know it now. Velvet doesn't seem to be afraid of anything anymore. Except...)

She turns around to look fully at Eleanor. "You're back."

"I..." Eleanor takes a few steps forward. "I wanted to ask if you-"

"No," Velvet says, and Eleanor is stunned into silence. Before she can figure out how to reply to that, Velvet goes on, "I told you. It's not going to work."

All of Eleanor's arguments bubble back up at once, things she's been telling herself, rehearsing in her head to sway Velvet to her side. And yet, all she can manage is, "How can you be so sure?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Velvet snaps, and rolls her shoulder to draw Eleanor's attention to her arm. The tight black tank top she's wearing leaves her right arm bare apart from the gauntlet and blade strapped to her forearm, and doesn't even attempt to hide that that half of her left arm is simply not there.

Eleanor falters only for a moment. "I don't _care_ about that, Velvet. It doesn't matter to me anymore what people think. If it did, I wouldn't be here."

"You say that now," Velvet says. She twists her wrist down to grab a string on the underside of the gauntlet, and the whole thing loosens until it slips off, revealing the sweat-soaked skin underneath. Her hand clamps around the gauntlet before it falls any further. "But things change. If it goes badly, you won't have a place to run. You can't distance yourself and say this was just a silly little diversion. You'll have to own it. _All_ of it."

"I will!" Eleanor insists.

Velvet glances up at her, sharp as the blade she's holding. "Are you sure? Even if your friends leave you? Your family kicks you out? Even if you lose everything, because of me?"

"I..."

She wants to say yes. She wants to say yes and believe it, because that's what Velvet _deserves_. It shouldn't matter what kind of background she came from, or what she looks like, or how she makes money to pay her rent. Velvet is strong and smart and independent and so kind, underneath her resentment, and the last thing she needs is another person turning her away because she doesn't fit in.

And she's right - she doesn't fit in. Being together would go against everything Eleanor has been taught, everything her circle still believes about propriety and respectability. That upper echelon of society she used to be so proud of will never accept someone like Velvet into their midst without a fight.

Maybe Eleanor is ready to start that fight.

Velvet looks aloof now, standing there calmly in the ring as if she doesn't actually care. But Eleanor knows she's not imagining what's happening here. Velvet is usually sullen and easily irritated, but she's _different_ around Eleanor. Even Magilou said so. Too many times Eleanor has caught Velvet staring at her when she didn't think she was watching. Too many times Velvet has chosen to take her breaks right next to where Eleanor is sitting, so close their shoulders brush and Eleanor's heart starts hammering in her throat. Too many times Eleanor has joined her on the stage while Velvet demonstrates part of her routine, and almost, almost closes that final inch of space between them.

Every single time, she backs away too soon.

Now she brushes past Eleanor almost rudely, not even glancing at her as she passes. Before she can think, Eleanor's hand shoots out to grab Velvet's arm and stop her in the doorway. Velvet flinches back, bristling, but Eleanor doesn't let go.

"Don't-" Velvet growls, but breaks off as soon as Eleanor speaks, her voice soft now.

"I won't push you," she says. "But like you said - things can change. _We_ can change things. So just..."

_Don't give up yet. Give me a chance._

She trails off before the words come. Maybe she's as foolish as Velvet says. Maybe she's let this place raise her expectations too high. Here, in these strange and wonderful walls that Magilou built to house the impossible, nothing can stop them from being together. But the rest of the world doesn't work like that.

She doesn't doubt that. But more than that, she desperately doesn't want Velvet to keep pushing her away before they _try._

Velvet stares at her for a long moment, expressionless as always. Suddenly Eleanor can feel her heart pounding. But when Velvet turns away, Eleanor thinks she catches a trace of a smile on Velvet's lips.

"Well," she says, and looks up at the rigging through the doorway, the props and ropes and costumes used in a show that was never supposed to exist. "Stranger things have happened."


	2. A Beautiful Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Begonia (Beware)  
> ngl, I was tempted to go full disney on this one and make the rest of the cast into talking household objects, but I don't have _that_ much time on my hands

The manor is huge, and even after many days of being confined in it, Eleanor doesn't think she's seen the whole thing.

Today is one of those days she's dedicated to strolling through the hallways and across the terraces, learning her way around. There's no shortage of rooms, stairways, and towers, and more than once she's gotten a little lost. But she doesn't worry; she always manages to retrace her steps until she knows where she is.

Truth be told, most of the big stone building is the same. Only one person has lived here in the last decade, so the vast majority of the space has gone unused for years, resulting in plenty of empty rooms, jammed doors that Eleanor almost has to break open, and corridors that essentially lead nowhere. It's a fairly fruitless endeavor, memorizing what's where and looking through the old artifacts left by the previous owners. But it's not like Eleanor doesn't have the time. 

Like most days, today the sole inhabitant is nowhere to be found, and Eleanor is left wandering the hallways alone. She looks out large glass windows at the courtyards outside the manor. Parts of the gardens are still well-maintained, but aside from that the grounds have been left to grow naturally, blending into the woods beyond. The forest looks dark, even though the grass and plants closer by are bright with warm late-afternoon sunlight.

Eleanor lingers there for a few minutes, enjoying the greenery, before moving on. She's close to the west wing of the mansion now, and her steps slow. She's been warned away from this area more than once. Curiosity compels her back every now and then, but despite how often she wonders what's beyond this hallway, she doesn't try to go in. It might just be where the owner lives, and she greatly values her privacy - and besides, Eleanor isn't interested in being threatened any more than she has been already.

She heads down a staircase, taking in the silence of the empty house. Even her footsteps disappear into the plush rug beneath her feet. It was eerie when she first arrived, but, knowing what she now knows, the quiet is more peaceful than disturbing.

It's a far cry from the place she thought it would be. There have long been rumors of the manor being haunted, and stories that seem to corroborate the theory. They say there was a terrible accident here, many years ago, that took the lives of all the residents - and yet lanterns can still be seen through the windows, and the path beyond the gates is always cleared of leaves and pebbles. The mansion is abandoned, but it's not fallen into disrepair at all. Nevertheless, no one ever enters or leaves.

That's why Eleanor came here. She couldn't just ignore the suspicion that something foul lurks within these walls, something that should be brought to light. And so she came to investigate, only to find herself trapped inside the grounds by the manor's very much not-a-ghost inhabitant, a beast of a woman named Velvet.

"Punishment for trespassing," she had called it. Eleanor still frowns, thinking back on it as she wanders down another corridor, taking in the faded tapestries on the walls. She doesn't think there's anything legal or sensible about forcing someone unwelcome to stay - wouldn't Velvet have been happier to drive her out? Yet she had insisted, with her monstrous daemon arm flexing as an incentive, that Eleanor could not leave the premises until given permission.

Even now, Eleanor feels prickles of the same mixed emotions that swamped her at the time. Indignation, revulsion, confusion, and yes, fear - but all of them have abated in the time she's spent here. She realizes now that Velvet needs something... she just can't figure out what it is. It doesn't seem to be in Velvet's nature to tell her plainly what she wants. Or perhaps she can't - perhaps the curse that twisted her body into a daemon's and keeps her bound here also prevents her from explaining how to break it. After all, she's barely spoken a word about the curse at all, except to mutter her hatred of the man who cast it.

Before she knows it Eleanor ends up outside a broad set of double doors, fancy but requiring no key. When she turns one of the golden knobs, the old hinges groan, and the door swings open into the large ballroom that takes up much of the first floor.

Eleanor has been here once, when she first toured the mansion - but that was a quick patrol just to get her bearings. Now she has time to look into every last corner if she wants, and she shuts the door behind her as she drifts into the huge open space.

Even more than the lavish decorations and innumerable hidden treasures, the ballroom leaves Eleanor in awe of how grand the manor truly is. It's hard to imagine having this much room indoors; Eleanor's childhood home could probably fit in here at least twice over. The emptiness is amplified by a ceiling that must stretch well above the second floor, making her footsteps echo. She steps a little harder on the polished floor to better hear the odd sound, and stares at the ornate chandeliers dangling from crossbeams above her.

She's still admiring the patterned glass when the creak of the heavy doors opening startles her, and she twirls around to face the entrance. It's Velvet, of course - who else could it be? - but she's not wearing her usual thick cloak, and she looks almost... naked without it. Her left arm, in its dormant state, is an unnatural solid black, the long fingers still curving into pointed claws at their tips. But it's the rest of her that Eleanor can't seem to tear her gaze away from.

"What are you doing in here?" Velvet asks as she walks closer. Her voice is kinder now, almost bemused - none of the accusations that made Eleanor feel like she was being interrogated when she first came here.

"Just... exploring," Eleanor says, finally wrenching her eyes away and back to the massive chandeliers. "You don't use most of the manor."

Velvet grins wryly. "I don't expect anyone would come if I hosted a ball."

"That's..." Eleanor starts, glancing away. _Cynical_ , she thinks, and also _true_ , but Velvet doesn't let her pick one.

"I thought you would be in the library. You picked the room almost furthest from there."

It's true, Eleanor does spend a lot of her time in the library. There's something unfair about the size of it - that all those old, valuable, fascinating books would be hidden away here, in a mansion owned by a daemon who didn't like to read even when she was human. Eleanor can think of few things more alluring than a well-stocked and comfortable library to lose herself in, yet the place was dusty with disuse when she first found it.

Velvet stops next to her, and Eleanor finally brings her attention back to the daemon. "Maybe you should buy a smaller house," she starts, but the jest is punctuated with a gasp, and she leans forward to grab Velvet's human arm. "Your arm-!"

Velvet looks down, more curious than concerned. "What?"

"You're bleeding!" Honestly, does she feel _nothing?_ "You need to get this-"

"Ugh, this again?" Velvet cuts her off, and shakes Eleanor's hands away to raise her arm and examine it herself. "I thought that stupid thing had healed already."

Eleanor watches in silence as she presses the hem of her shirt against the cut to dab the blood away. Part of her wants to insist Velvet immediately take the fabric off and get it in the wash, before the blood stains it, but instead she asks, "What happened?"

Velvet glances up at her. "What happened?"

"How did you get that?"

"Oh. It was from those wolves, remember? Nasty things bite harder than I thought."

Eleanor's heart seems to twist in her chest. Oh, she remembers - she had wandered out into the grounds late one night, soon after Velvet started keeping her captive. It had seemed simple enough to sneak away, but then she learned why Velvet wasn't keeping a closer eye on her. She had barely made it into the woods before she was attacked by several large and vicious wolves that tackled her to the dirt, knocking the wind out of her.

Moments before, she had been praying that Velvet hadn't noticed her departure. Suddenly she was incredibly grateful to see that hope dashed. Velvet had thrown herself between Eleanor and the wolves just in time, beating them back with her grotesque daemon arm until they scrambled away into the bushes, yelping and whining. Eleanor had ended up without a scratch on her, just a mild bruise from hitting the ground, but Velvet was not so lucky.

She brushed it off at the time, wrapping her cloak around herself and yelling at Eleanor to get back inside. For once, Eleanor had obeyed, too confused to do much else. Velvet had already made it perfectly clear that she didn't actually give a damn about Eleanor, she just couldn't let her leave. So what was she doing saving her like that?

Eleanor has learned a lot since then. She's come to realize that though Velvet is brooding and sharp and unwelcoming, she's not _terrible_. In fact, in action alone, she's been quite hospitable, setting Eleanor up with a spacious room and free run of the manor and whatever small comforts she asks for. It's just her attitude that's so unbearable... and even that has been changing. She's even been _smiling_ lately.

She's not smiling now, though. Eleanor watches her grimace at the wound, the way the blood is already starting to seep back out again, and hesitantly offers, "Can I do anything...?"

She shouldn't owe Velvet her help. After all, if Velvet hadn't been holding her hostage, it never would have happened. But her mother always did say she had too much responsibility in her, and looking at Velvet now, she's still overcome with a desire to help.

Velvet glances at her only briefly. "I can take care of it," she says. "It's not the first time."

"But I could..." An idea strikes her as she realizes what her next course of action would have been anywhere else. "If you let me leave, I could get you my first aid kit. I have ointments for things like that. They're much better than just washing it out with water."

This time Velvet looks up at her slowly, golden eyes narrowed. It reminds Eleanor too much of the beast that captured her, the way Velvet used to be, and she starts to wonder if she's been too bold - but all Velvet says is, "Not yet."

She turns away before Eleanor can register the words. "Anyway, come on. Dinner is ready. I'll get this wrapped up and then we can eat."

Eleanor doesn't move while Velvet walks back to the double doors. Not yet...? So she is planning to let her go? She had assumed as much, somewhere in the back of her mind - it's not like she can keep her here forever - but hearing Velvet say it is still a great relief. Maybe that day will come sooner rather than later. Maybe, once she leaves... she can come back to help Velvet find a way to leave, too?

In the meantime, she thinks as Velvet holds the door open and she hurries to catch up, maybe staying here isn't so bad.


	3. Thank Goodness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Cattail (Peace/Prosperity)  
> Berseria really is the Wicked of the tales series. prequel to another story, female antihero protagonist, bittersweet ending, gay subtext if you squint  
> they're just two friends... two good friends... two BEST friends...

There are moments when the world is at peace, and Eleanor is happy.

Today should have been one of those days. Not only has Eleanor been promoted to the rank of legate in these last few months, but now Magilou has officially joined the Abbey too, and at a decently high rank herself thanks to her magical prowess. It's everything she could have wanted: a job doing good for the public, her talents routinely recognized by her higher-ups, with her school sweetheart still by her side.

And then someone brings up Velvet, and all of those exuberant feelings come crashing back down.

Honestly, she should have expected this. It's difficult to go out in public these days without hearing her name whispered in the streets, like a curse everyone is afraid to say or hear said. But Eleanor had hoped that maybe today, maybe just this one day, she could go without thinking about it.

Too late. It still feels like a blow to the chest to be reminded. That Velvet is gone. That Velvet chose to leave everything she had worked for, leave everything they had planned together - leave _Eleanor_ \- to do _this_. There's not a soul in the land that isn't aware of her crusade against the Abbey, and specifically against the Shepherd as the spearhead of the work the Abbey has done to control the people.

It's not that Eleanor disagrees with her sentiments, either. Perhaps she doesn't feel them as strongly - a little law and order isn't _all_ bad - but Velvet has a point, and her hatred of the Shepherd isn't unjustified. Yet few people know the truth that she does, and the sheer violence of her methods would be off-putting to the rest. There must have been _something_ else she could have done, something that wouldn't have made her an enemy of the public. That wouldn't have put her, and so many others, in danger like this. 

Instead, everywhere Eleanor goes she has to listen to the people talk about Velvet as if she were a monster. Eleanor knows that Velvet would never go out of her way to hurt the innocent - but it's painfully obvious that that's not the image she projects, and the citizens fear for their lives. One mention of the Calamity in a crowded street, and a normal conversation turns to fearful whispers and angry shouting.

"Did you hear she destroyed one of the Abbey's outposts in Northgand? Well, there's no _proof_ , no, but who else could it have been?"

"She's a terror! Why hasn't the Shepherd dispatched all the exorcists to kill her yet!?"

"Shh, not so loud! She has spies everywhere. If she hears you say that, she'll kill _you!"_

"Yes, they say she employs winged daemons to hunt people down for her. They could be anywhere."

"She's a daemon herself! But listen! That just means that holy water can kill her!"

"It can!? We should petition the Abbey to see if they have any left! If everyone has some, she'll be dead in no time!"

The last set of speakers is particularly exuberant, and they run off without even noticing Eleanor walking past them. Beside her, Magilou stops in her tracks.

"Absolute buffoonery," she mutters, dark and low. Her petite frame is tensed in a way Eleanor never used to see.

Eleanor leads her a little farther away from the crowd before Magilou turns to her and snaps, "Do they _hear_ themselves?! They'll make up any kind of story about her if it'll-"

"I know," Eleanor tries to soothe her. "It's ridiculous, but-"

"It is ridiculous! These people are perfectly happy to blame Velvet for every minor inconvenience in their lives. And what's going to change when she's gone, hm?"

Eleanor glances aside at Magilou's last words. Magilou may be a certified expert at playing dumb, but Eleanor is fully aware that she's neither stupid nor unobservant, and she immediately knows she's made a mistake when Magilou growls, "What?"

"I..." Eleanor can't meet her eyes. "I mean, Velvet _has_ done some troubling things... I understand her goal, but innocent people are getting caught up in it, and-"

"So you agree with them, then? Let's just off her, and everything will be hunky-dory?"

"No! Absolutely not, but... There must be something we can do to _stop_ her. You have to understand that people will sleep better at night not having to worry about what she'll do next..."

"People?" Magilou repeats. "Which people? Not the ones the Abbey is crushing under their heels. Too bad Velvet's the only one who thinks about _them._ "

Without another word she spins around and storms off down the street, and Eleanor loses track of her within seconds. She remains rooted to her spot, not even checking to see if anyone noticed their fight, chest aching and hollow from seeing Magilou like this. Back in their school days, Magilou never would have taken anything this seriously. She had eyes only for pretty girls and good times. But then, Eleanor isn't unobservant either; she saw the way Magilou started to hesitate around Velvet, apparently thinking twice - something she used to pride herself on never doing once.

It's become painfully obvious to Eleanor why Magilou stayed. Whatever spark there was between them when they first met has been buried too deep under Magilou's desire to find Velvet. That's why she joined the Abbey: not to be with Eleanor, not because she agrees with any of their principles, but because it gives her the opportunity to be at the forefront of the search for the Calamity.

And what will Magilou do when they find her, Eleanor wonders? She certainly won't consent to any plan that hurts her, even though the people will be clamoring for their "justice."

And what will _Eleanor_ do when they find her...?

Uncertainty threatens to choke her. It's true, the two of them used to be at each other's throats. Velvet was brooding and awkward, but she was never evil. She was never _cruel_. Even though people treated her with repugnance and disdain because of her discolored arm and the powers she still didn't understand, she endured it all for her little brother. 

And now all that strength of will has been turned against the Abbey, and Eleanor already knows that someday - and someday soon - she's going to have to make a choice. Support Velvet and her righteous fury, even at the cost of the destruction she causes in her rampage? Or watch Velvet herself be destroyed?

Eleanor squeezes her eyes shut, then shakes her head. She had tuned out the rest of the noise around her, and now that she heads back into the bustle of the streets all she hears is normal midday chatter. Dinner plans, prices of goods, the weather. Everyone has forgotten about Velvet again, and for a brief moment, peace returns.

Eleanor is sure now that, whichever way this ends, there will be no peace for her.


	4. Queen of the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 (...16?): Cactus (Endurance)  
> idea shamelessly stolen from [this beautiful art](https://kriseli-archive.tumblr.com/post/159144782649/happy-belated-birthday-to-my-friend-rem-aah)  
> (so basically chapter 2 again but in ancient greece this time)

The underworld is a place much darker, more still, more muted than the land of the living, and Eleanor is starting to find peace in that.

When first she came here, against her will and resentful of the mistakes and the person that brought her, it felt anything but peaceful. She was accustomed to wide open fields, lush grass, and bountiful crops. She lived surrounded by sprouting plants and robust animals and hardworking humans. Her mother, goddess of the harvest, taught her only of Life.

There is no Life here; there are only the souls of the departed and the lord of this domain, the God of the Underworld. Velvet, who stole her away here and robbed the aboveground of Eleanor and her mother's blessings. Who introduced Eleanor to this colorless land under the earth, away from everything she loved, and forcefully opened her eyes to parts of the world she had yet to see.

Velvet, whose gruff and indifferent demeanor doesn't fool Eleanor anymore, and who is currently lying asleep next to her, serene as if they lived in paradise and not the realm of the dead.

Yes, Eleanor has found peace enough here. She scoots closer to rest her head against Velvet's chest, tucked beneath her chin, and continues to doze. 

* 

_She knew the beauty of the world, but not the suffering. She knew boundless fields in bloom, but not wilt and decay. And perhaps that is why, when the Lord of the Underworld appeared in the meadow, radiating a darkness that did not belong in her world, she thought she could challenge her._

_She believes wholeheartedly that her mother was trying to do what was best, keeping her sheltered from the wicked in the world. But it made her naive. It made her ignorant to just how powerful the Calamity was, and in the end, she stood no chance._

_She crouched on the trampled ground, tears springing from her eyes, as her opponent approached one last time. The long grass seemed to bend away from her. Even the earth met this monster with revulsion._

_"Stand," she said._

_"Leave this place," Eleanor tried one last time, holding back a choked sob._

_The Lord of the Underworld did not move._

_"You have lost," she said, and with a sneer continued, "You are not so naive as to not know what that means?"_

_It wasn't a question. Eleanor's eyes stung._

_"I will go," Eleanor whispered, and finally stood, glaring at the Calamity through her tears. "But not willingly. You are a kidnapper."_

_The Lord of the Underworld scoffed as she turned away. The ground opened up before them, sloping down, down, to a place Eleanor should never have known._

_"And you are a fool."_

*

Eleanor is drawn into the kitchen once again by the mouth-watering scent of meat and vegetables roasting. Unsurprisingly, it is Velvet by the fireplace tending to the food, which looks to be almost ready.

It was a surprise once. Eleanor would never have expected that the Lord of the Underworld likes to cook. Especially because gods have no real need to eat - physical sustenance is not strictly necessary. But that does not mean they can't, and it turns out that Velvet is quite fond of trying out whatever new recipes humanity has invented, experimenting with flavorings, and defaulting back to old favorites when she feels nostalgic.

Eleanor had resisted for months, at the least. It is difficult to tell down here, where the sun does not rise and set with the regularity Eleanor is used to. It was difficult to resist, too, despite having no need to consume anything. The sheer aroma of Velvet's cooking is heavenly, an irony that at first made Eleanor want to sob for the cruelty of it all. It reminded her so much of her mother's cooking, of the village festivals, of the feasts they had during the harvest every year. That this _demon_ would tempt her by stirring up such fond memories was almost too much to bear.

Almost, but not quite. She had to stay strong. She knew if she partook in anything Velvet offered, she would be bound to this place forever. So she declined every savory-looking bite, until, oddly enough, Velvet stopped asking. 

She is glad now that that ordeal is over and she can eat Velvet's cooking freely. When she enters the kitchen, there are already two plates set out on the table, along with bread, butter, and a jug of wine. It's the kind that fearful humans set out as an offering to the Lord of the Underworld; Velvet has no love for the practice, but, never one to be wasteful, she accepts it anyway.

"What's the occasion?" Eleanor asks as Velvet removes the food from the heat.

"There is none." Velvet doesn't turn around, but Eleanor can hear her smiling as she says more quietly, "I'm glad you're here."

*

_"Velvet," Eleanor had said one day, watching the dark water of the rivers rush by in front of them. "I have met your brothers, you know. The Lord of the Sky told me you divided the world evenly between you."_

_"Yes," was all Velvet said._

_Far off in the distance, a small boat crossed one of the rivers. It was impossible to make out any detail from where Eleanor stood, but she assumed it was filled with souls being delivered to the afterlife. Eleanor wondered who they were, and why they died; Velvet watched without a flicker of expression._

_"That means a portion of the earth belongs to you," Eleanor continued. "Why do you never venture out of the underworld?"_

_She glanced at Velvet to see the Calamity cross her arms over her chest. "I do, on occasion. Else we never would have had the pleasure of meeting."_

_Eleanor had to force herself not to shrink back at Velvet's acerbic tone. They had known each other long enough for Eleanor to deduce that her captor was not evil or cruel - but she was still not pleasant most of the time, and could easily turn vicious._

_She forced herself to go on. "But only on occasion. It is part of your domain. Why not acquaint yourself with it?"_

_Velvet tilted her head just enough to gaze sidelong at Eleanor, her face unreadable. That was a side of Velvet that still intimidated Eleanor every time, striking her with a sudden fear that she had said something wrong, something to aggravate her._

_But Velvet answered without the disdain Eleanor expected. "I am not welcome in the aboveground. First and foremost I am the God of the Underworld, and humans do not look kindly upon death. Of course you other gods, living among and above them, tend to take their side."_

_She said it simply, but Eleanor looked away just the same. It was true; Eleanor was raised among gods who frequently spoke ill of the underworld and all its inhabitants, on the rare occasion that the subject arose. This place was dank and dark and stagnant, so much the opposite of the vibrant world Eleanor knew. It was only now, after living here for so long, that she had come to understand the role Velvet played. Humans must die, and their souls must go somewhere when they die. Velvet did not cause that, merely oversaw it._

_It was no wonder, then, that Velvet seemed discontent. Certainly it was rare for other gods to see fit to visit her, and even the other residents of the underworld tended to keep their distance and work alone. Eleanor had seen Velvet visit the guard dog on more than one occasion, patting its three massive heads with a fondness Eleanor never thought she would see from her. And perhaps that was when it finally occurred to her -_

_Velvet was alone down here. Velvet was lonely._

_Eleanor hummed quietly to herself, eyes easily finding the boat again, despite her mind wandering elsewhere. Would it be so bad, then, for someone to stay here with her?_

_Would it be so bad if that someone was Eleanor?_

*

The routine of a god does not follow the same restrictions and regularity as the lives of humans. Just as there is no strict need for sustenance, there is also no pressing need for sleep - and yet, it is the privilege of deities to do whatever they wish with their time, and that is why Velvet has her own bedchambers affixed to her personal quarters in the underworld.

It is a simple room, with none of the extravagance one might expect from the ruler of the domain. The bed is large but not lavish, and when Eleanor first came here, the chamber was not decorated at all. There was no need, Velvet said; she used it simply to rest when she was tired, not as some museum of pretty things to gaze at. But now that Eleanor shares the room with her, she has not objected to Eleanor bringing in more comfortable pillows, or a small mirror to use when combing her hair, or a single vase of flowers to place on the cabinet.

It is only when Eleanor looks back that she realizes - Velvet was always this way. Despite holding her captive, despite her lack of sympathy or compassion, Velvet had always seen to her needs and met her requests. When Eleanor first arrived, Velvet provided her with private places to bathe and sleep before Eleanor could even ask. When Eleanor mentioned that her clothing was starting to tatter, Velvet procured new garments right away. She rarely argued, and never expected gratitude. She even listened, without a hint of disdain or disapproval, to Eleanor's suggestions on how to do her job.

"Is there nothing you can do for them?" Eleanor had asked, upon seeing yet another new crop of souls reach the underworld. "These humans were noble and brave. They died protecting their own. Yet they too are consigned to this, for the rest of time?"

Velvet had followed her gaze to where several other souls wandered aimlessly about the cavernous entrance to the afterlife. Some spoke, some played simple games, some rested - but mostly as if in a daze, lacking any of the vigor of life. It was cruel, Eleanor thought, that they should work so hard to improve the world above, only to be sent to a mindless, meaningless existence here as if none of it had mattered.

She didn't think Velvet would care. It was pure emotion, not any expectation of change, that made her speak. But Velvet had looked at the old souls, and then the new ones, and said, "I shall see," before turning away. 

Things have changed since then. The afterlife is a bit more pleasant, at least for those who had not dedicated their lives to wrongdoing. And Eleanor is happy to continue to offer ideas, and have Velvet seriously consider them.

It is strange to think of herself as a goddess of the underworld, but she supposes that's what she is now, at least while she is here. Even the other gods treat her as a ruler of this space, if they deign to visit. More often she sees them when she lives above ground, and she makes sure never to say a demeaning word about Velvet in their presence. She thinks, perhaps, they are starting to change their minds about her - just a little.

* 

_"The earth has stopped growing."_

_It was a fact, not debatable, and Eleanor presented it as such. And for once, Velvet reacted exactly the way Eleanor expected, barely looking up from the table she was leaning over._

_"And?"_

_Eleanor took a breath. Surely Velvet knew about this. She could not be that unaware of what was going on above ground, even if she never went there herself. Eleanor's ignorance of it for so long was a result only of how strange and disorienting this experience had been for her. But now that she knew -_

_"I have to go back."_

_That, of course, got Velvet's attention, and she straightened. Eleanor pushed on, unflinching._

_"This is happening because of me - no, because of_ you _. My mother grieves my absence, and is too heartbroken to grant her blessings to the earth. Without those blessings, the plants wither and die, and food does not grow. And without food, the people and animals will soon follow."_

_Velvet continued to watch her even after she finished speaking. Finally, just as Eleanor was about to open her mouth again, she looked back to the table and said, "It makes to difference to me what happens to the living."_

_A flash of familiar rage pierced through Eleanor's chest, accompanied by something new - something like betrayal. "You cannot be so callous as to let thousands of beings suffer when the solution is so simple. What will you do when your domain is flooded with souls from above, dying in droves because of your actions?"_

_"The same thing I always do," Velvet said._

_Eleanor struggled to answer. Velvet was often indifferent to the affairs of others, but to shrug and say that something on this scale was not her concern - Eleanor had thought -_

_"Velvet, I_ cannot _-" she started, only for Velvet to cut her off._

_"Go."_

_Eleanor almost wasn't sure she heard correctly. It was especially difficult to tell because at that same moment Velvet looked away, expression stony and eyes narrowed - and because in the moment prior, before she could hide it, Eleanor saw the hurt that crossed her face._

_She knew she owed Velvet no thanks for setting her free. Nevertheless, her rush of relief was accompanied by both the warm glow of affection, and a strange sense of sorrow. She had dreamed so long of leaving this place, and only now that the time was upon her did she realize what that meant._

_"I'll come back," she promised, but Velvet only turned away._

_"You won't."_

_The words carried no anger, accusation, or even bitterness anymore. It was a simple, tired statement of fact:_ You will change your mind, once you're gone. Everyone does.

_Apparently her months in the underworld had done nothing to temper the impulsiveness that landed Eleanor there in the first place. She realized this as she stepped up next to the table, but her decision was already made._

_The apple on the table was as large as her hand, its dark red skin shining in the lamplight. A product of the underworld, Eleanor knew, not the bright and natural fields above. But as she bit into it, she tasted nothing but the same crisp juice as the finest apples produced in any living orchards. It was the first thing she had eaten in months, and her tongue tingled at the sweetness._

_She almost missed the way Velvet spun around, eyes wide, nearly panicked. "What are you-"_

_Eleanor swallowed, and put the apple back down. One step took her chest-to-chest with Velvet, close enough to lean up and brush her nose against the other woman's for the briefest second._

_"I'll come back," she breathed again, and gently touched her lips to Velvet's, and then was gone._

*

Both of them are aware of the day that Eleanor will leave, even though she never says it.

Her absence is difficult for the world of the living. As her mother mourns, crops die, snow falls, and the cycle of life grinds to a halt. Eleanor could never stay away for too long, even though she has come to treasure her time in the underworld as much as her time away from it. The chill she first felt is gone now, replaced with the warmth that springs up inside her when she looks at Velvet, and the vast empty space underground is familiar, comforting. 

She knows the way to the surface on her own now. It is a route open only to her, and it is not long; she will be back with her mother very shortly, and the earth will spring to life again.

But before that, she finds Velvet out by the river. The water is dark, like the rest of this place, and the bank is bare rock and dirt. It is not like the lush, calming rivers on the surface, but Eleanor has come to appreciate it just the same.

Velvet stands when Eleanor approaches, and pulls Eleanor into a kiss before either of them can speak. When they break apart, Eleanor smiles, and says softly, "I'll be back."

She's rewarded with a rare smile from Velvet, and a look so gentle Eleanor almost can't believe she once hated her, so long ago.

"I'll be here," Velvet says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently some people believe it should actually be summer that persephone spends in the underworld, because it's a parallel to the grain that was stored underground during the hottest months and then replanted in autumn?? but this version seems a lot more well-known and it doesn't reeaally matter anyway
> 
> thanks for the kudos and especially the comments y'all!!


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